


Luckstruck.

by potysan



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Assassins, Dungeons & Dragons, Fantasy, Gen, Magic, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 11:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10535676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potysan/pseuds/potysan
Summary: Nörman was a smart man. He worked every day with blind faith for a better future, without regretting anything that he did for his goal. He grew old and, as a rite that everyone in his association has to commit to, he leaves his home to find artifacts that would help his companions, or cursed items that will harm his frail body, but save the rest of young adventurers. But as soon he committed to die all by himself, he finds someone...





	

It was another beautiful mid-summer day. It was long since my bones felt actual heat, since in the north is alway cold as the dead winter. I found myself a tavern after limping for about one kilometer after falling from a stupid tree. I've been stupid. A stupid nightmare, a stupid jump and a stupid fall, while tied with a rope to the ankle. Partial dislocation, nothing that some good rest and some battlefield training can mend. I passed 5 nights crying myself to sleep, for I had made the same mistake I did at least 30 years ago.

One of my worst mistakes, but my biggest lesson. Do not underestimate the situation. None is safe here from anybody.

The same day I understood that bear cubs, for as much they could be cute, they are dangerous. Specially their parents. God wished me to live and learn a lesson, so the bear tore my eye out and left me with a great teaching: do not poke the sleeping bear. Never. Even with a thirty feet long pole. Do not.

 

I payed my room as always, ordered the usual breakfast (almost lunch to be honest, but who cares) and while I was eating, the unexpected happened.

Noises. 

It's been long since I heard noises. At least not like these. Juvenile noises, like a bunch of noisy brats.

"God, I just wanted some peace, nothing else. At least give me a sign that you have not forsaken me. At least for now..."

I made haste eating, so I could leave before the chaos. But to my surprise, a group of what seemed adventurers, came barging into the place, happily laughing about something.

I don't know why, but I felt some sort of need. Like a magnet. I wanted to approach them, but the appearance of some of them discouraged me.

A churchman covered in a brilliant spit-cleaned iron plated armor; a man, wearing dark robes and showing some kind of mask, that hauntly remembered me of the old plague that struck Norsekeep almost a century ago; a man, wearing a chainmail and carrying an oversized flambard on his back and a young man, clearly an apprentice mage, for he held a book in his left hand and a wand in his pocket.

But one of them made me curious.

A young, or, at least, young-looking elf in dark leathers, with pouches dangling from his person. 

He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was no good for anyone. Maybe an assassin, or a thief, or something in the middle of the two.

He noticed me, or at least noticed the dumbfonded look I gave him, and approached me.

I sat down to my table and he sat in front of me.

"What's up with you?" asks me with open curiosity. "Usually people that stare me like that know me and that ain't good. But I don't know you, so either you want me dead or you are attracted by me." continued. Sarcastic and witty, the little one.

"I was just looking how blatant your intentions are, and how you and your..."companions"? lack of discipline." I responded sharp. I wanted him to be mad at me, to test his patience as a man.

"You are actually right, but you aren't scared, so you either are a professional or you are a complete moron." 

He's teasing me. He's doing my same trick.

I looked around and finally noticed that everyone sat down to my table. It was kinda awkward, since it was a table for maximum four people, and we were six. Everyone was looking at me, staring deep into my eye, looking for a sign of aggression. 

But I didn't flinch.

"What brings you here mister...?" I asked him.

"Call me Tabano." answered the elf. "We are here because a weird monster attacked our city. We slain him all together and now we are looking for someone to decipher the book we found rummaging through his corpse" continued him. "Also we have a lot more stuff to do, but it's actually way faster to just show you. Care to join us? You seem fit for our objective!"

I stood silent for around thirty seconds trying to answer my own question: is it really worth dying alone? I don't have many more years to spend, and I don't want to make them suffer.

Then I remembered the tales our "father" told us when I was younger: incredible men capable of overthrowing gods and demons, saving the world we know.

I slowly stood up and, with a smug smile, answered him: "But of course. What is worth dying if nobody can piss on your grave?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello gentlemen and women. This is actually my very first long run (at least hope so) for this project of mine. This is a transposition of the tale our Dungeon Master is weaving for us and I'm just writing the events. Please, leave a critic so I can learn where I need to pay more attention and such. Much love and enjoy the rest.


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